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Chapter Two: Ob
Orwen obstinately decides to ignore his Uncle's wishes and go out riding. But first, he gets back in bed to finish his breakfast. After stuffing himself full of biscuit, jelly, and tea, Orwen's stomach is so full that he is certain the jostling of his steed's uneven gait will upend his breakfast; the ride will have to be postponed. "Perhaps I should go see what my Uncle wants with his silly 'mid-summer's gift'." Orwen says aloud. Reaching out of bed he pulls at the embroidered chord hanging from a slit in the stone wall and waits for his manservant to repsond to his ringing. Vin appears moments later, panting for breath after the double flights of stairs, and looking as awkward as ever. "Get out my riding clothes, in case I want to go out later. But for now I'll wear the fox vest and black leggings. BLACK, mind you. I won't be trotting about in the yellow you pulled out last time when I was preoccupied with Lissa's letter. How embarassing!" "Yes, Master Orwen." Vin smirks, rummaging in a wardrobe for the orange vest that is trimmed at the elbows and neckline with silver fox-fur. It was a gift from Orwen's younger brother, Jansen, who was studying at the monastery a few miles away, and often visited. The two young men were quite close, and Jansen had bought the vest for his brother more in jest than in earnest, as a way of making fun of Orwen's lack of appreciation for the current fashions; Orwen might have discarded the yellow leggings that accompanied the vest, except that Jansen occasionally dove into his wardrobe to find them on his visits. Once he was dressed and satisfied by his appearance in the small, dingy mirror leaning against the wall of the apartment, Orwen picked up the ribboned box from his uncle and marched down the stairs, leaving Vin to finish setting out his riding clothes. The stone stairwell which led to his apartment opened upon a long, narrow hall that led on each end to wooden staircases going down to the main floor of his Uncle's castle manor. He followed one of these staircases to the entrance hall of the manor, and then entered his Uncle's study, leaving the broad wooden door open after his arrival. Thoreau looked up at him sharply from his desk, pen in hand. Seeing that his nephew was approaching the desk directly, Thoreau tucked what he had been writing on away into a drawer and leaned over the desk toward Orwen with a brow raised. "Well? Did you like your gift?" Thoreau ground the words out between his teeth slowly, as was his habit. "I don't know. I haven't opened it." Orwen shrugged, tossing the box between his uncle's hands onto the desk. Thoreau reacted swiftly, drawing back from the gift as if he were afraid of it. Orwen settled into a wooden armchair nearby, without noticing the movement. Thoreau looked at his nephew sideways and then, as if deciding somehting, placed the box into another drawer and walked around the desk to sit in an armchair across from Orwen. "Your brother wrote." He began, while Orwen held a glass globe in his hands, spinning it carelessly. "He wants you to visit him tomorrow; there's a special...thing." "Really? What sort of thing?" Orwen asked, tossing the glass globe into his uncle's bony hands. Thoreau caught it shakily and frowned at his nephew. "Must you do that? I hate for my things to be broken." He groaned. "Well, it wasn't." Orwen chuckled, moving from the armchair to stand before the fire. "What time of day are they doing this 'thing'?" he said. "Ah...midnight." Thoreau replied, "I remember now; Jansen said it's a vigil." "Jansen wants to attend a vigil?" "Like the old knights used to do before their induction." Thoreau ground out with satisfaction. "I see." Orwen reflected for a moment on what he should say to his Uncle's suggestion of the vigil. Chapter Three: Obstinate Orwen decides he would rather not go to the vigil. Chapter Four: Vigilant Orwen decides that he would love the opportunity to stay up late and see his brother.